His Reign
by stardust217
Summary: Hawk Moth rules as the first world-wide tyrant, Marinette is a leader of an underground resistance, and Adrien is pleasantly ignorant - that is, until he meets a rather spiteful girl with black hair and pretty blue eyes. Or an AU in which Hawk Moth has supreme control of the world, and Adrien and Marinette were never Ladybug and Chat Noir.


**Story Warnings:** The following story will contain mild mentions and descriptions of violence, character death, heavy themes of war and tyranny, mild cursing, and angst.

* * *

People scattered, like the remnants of an ant colony breaking away from their crumbled anthill. Some flailed their arms and screeched, while others crouched and slipped away as quietly as they could. It didn't matter. The akumatized workers - aided by their unnatural gifts - returned each of the slaves back into the line. If one strayed too far or neared escape, they would..eliminate the problem and move on.

Pressing his warm skin against the cool glass, Adrien watched the people he would one day rule over be herded down the street like cattle, as they were every night around curfew. Their faces looked distorted through the raindrops on his window. He figured it better that way. Adrien didn't want to remember the faces of the dead. Nor did he feel particularly eager to remember the downtrodden expressions of the living.

It's necessary, he reminded himself dutifully. Before the World Order, things were chaotic. His grandfather, the original Agreste Hawk Moth, put a cap on things like terrorism, unnecessary murder, and torture. A few lost lives were a prick on the finger compared to all that. Besides, this was a rather...unsettling occurrence. Ever since the Movement began, the common folk have begun to rebel. This hasn't happened since well before his birth.

Adrien knew his father would be mad. The incessant revolting was a threat to the Order. He'd be even angrier if he learned that Adrien watched. Gabriel - his father and the second crowned Emperor of the first World Order - seemed to think that if he saw any acts of treason, he'd be likely to replicate them. He tried not to feel offended by his father's lack of faith, but to no avail. Seventeen years and it still felt like a knife to the throat.

The familiar click-clack of high heels echoed down the corridors. Adrien threw his curtain over the rain-beaded glass and leapt for his chair. He managed to sit down and pick up his pencil just in time. A moment later, a prudishly dressed woman opened the door a sliver and peered in. "Your Highness," she dipped her head at him respectfully.

Nathalie stepped into the room completely when he nodded at her. She scrutinized it, as if she hadn't the seen the place four hours before that at lunch.

Her lips were set in a thin line. Worry lines weeded her forehead and creased between her brows. Something told him they knew about the attempted escape, the second of the week.

He wondered what today's losses were. Would it be thirty dead, and two missing like last time? More, less? Adrien tasted the question on his tongue, but he could no sooner ask than he could step outside to feel the rain. Instead, he placed the pencil on top of his workbooks and cocked his head in feigned curiosity.

"Hello, Nathalie." He greeted the middle-aged woman good naturally. "Is it time for dinner?"

"I wish our meeting this night would be so pleasant." Nathalie pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. She nodded towards his window. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Adrien realized it got caught on a misplaced shoe and remained open a fragment. He winced. "Your tutor is among tonight's dead."

"Oh. Okay. Well, we'll just have to start looking for another one tomorrow, then. Thank you, Nathalie." Though he lassoed a casual lilt to his tone, Adrien felt something in his stomach drop to the basement floor of the mansion.

He's not had much contact with the outside world, and Mylène had been the best tutor he's ever had. Not to mention she was approximately his age, though she couldn't say for certain. Apparently outside of the Elite, no one tracked birthdays anymore.

Overall, Mylène was the closest thing to a friend he's ever had. A concoction of bitter disappoint and grief riddled his bones, though he knew better than to show more than a brief showcase of irritation at the 'hinderance of loss' (as his father would put it).

Nathalie glanced down at her tablet. "Already done, sir. I've listed a new opening for the Agreste personal tutor twenty-five minutes and fourty-seven seconds ago. I've already received twice that much in offers and suggestions from local schools and universities. I estimate a new tutor will be selected this weekend."

This weekend. Adrien nibbled on his pointer finger thoughtfully. It was Thursday, which meant at least one school day without a tutor. He still had his full time teacher, but unfortunately her work in the mine was too invaluable to his father to allow her - or any one person - to miss more than five hours of work at the mine. He's been struggling with dyslexia and auditory processing disorder his entire life. More than five hours of help was required, so they found a need for a tutor a priority. Thankfully.

"Good, good. I hope you're right. I'll see you tonight at dinner." Adrien dismissed her with the wave of his hand. Nathalie turned sharply on her heel to exit, but gradually came to a stop and turned her head one final time.

"I'm never wrong, your Highness." Nathalie tapped on the plate of metal that stretched halfway across her face. "Never wrong." Then she disappeared into the hallway, leaving Adrien alone to his thoughts.

* * *

An alert was sent to every student or teacher with the highest GPA's or most professional backgrounds. Marinette was pleasantly surprised to receive the notification via email, sent by one of her teachers at the academy. Her outstanding attendance record and 4.0 GPA easily distinguished her as one of the school's most promising students.

She grinned, turning to face Alya and Max, who both sat on her bedroom floor. Steering clear of the window, Marinette whispered, "This is our chance to infiltrate the Agreste Mansion. Max, surely you also received an email regarding the new opening?"

Max nodded solemnly. They all knew what an opening at the mansion meant. Another death, contributed to the Movement - their Movement.

Marinette's family worked for the underground resistance for years, before Hawk Moth was even aware of its existence. She briskly dismissed the thoughts of her parents. Another death was another mere sacrifice on their journey to freedom. The sooner they all stomached that, the better off they would be.

"We should discuss this with the Council before making any hasty decisions, Marinette." Alya said, an edge of warning laced in her tone. Though Marinette rolled her eyes, she knew that Alya was correct. Her recent dismissal from the council was because she "acted impulsively without the consent of the other council members, putting civilians and the Movement alike at risk for discovery and/or death". At least, that's what Acel Durand said at their last meeting the week prior.

"Yes but by the time we'll get everyone together for a meeting, this position will be filled. We know Max and I are revered as some of the most promising students of the academy. If one of us can get the job, think about how easy it would be for us to get access to vital information!"

"Like where the miraculouses are kept, you mean." Max pushed his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose.

Her obsession with the concept of a miraculous is well-known in the Movement. It's considered low-priority. Most of the members seemed focused on the short-term victories, like twenty new recruits who won't last the night or a successful hijacking of transportation to make their displeasure known.

Marinette seemed to be the only one able to see the bigger picture. If several people each held a miraculous, Gabriel would be powerless and no one person would be so powerful that they could rule as a world-wide tyrant again.

"Girl, you don't really think he'll just leave those out in the open where you can grab them on your way back from tutoring his dictatorship the third, do you?" Alya hissed. Marinette merely shook her head.

"Neither of you can talk me out of this. Now come here, help me pick out an outfit for my job interview tomorrow."


End file.
